


unspoken prayers

by padamoosi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padamoosi/pseuds/padamoosi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They tend to keep their thoughts to themselves.<br/>A Destiel oneshot, post 8x22.</p><p>  <a href="http://padamoosi.tumblr.com/post/54533958068/unspoken-prayers">read on tumblr</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	unspoken prayers

Where the fuck are you, Cas?

Yeah, you’re moping around and locking yourself in your room. I know that. But… where did you go?

I know heaven fell, okay? I know you feel like you’re guilty. Hell, I know the feeling better than most. And, fuck.

I’m scared, Cas.

I’m scared that you feel alone. Like there’s no one. Cause I’ve been there, and I’m starting to see too much of myself in you.

Don’t you remember that I need you, you son of a bitch?

Shit. I can’t stand seeing you like this.

But what would I say to you?

Nothing I say or do can possibly make it better.

I fuck up everything I care about. I need to stay away from you.

I can’t tell you.

I can’t do it.

Cas, man, I…

I just fucking want you to be okay.

Shit.

-

Dean.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I knew.

Maybe it was when I pulled you out.

When I felt you for the first time.

Your soul is… beautiful. I felt it and I saw it and I know.

Dean, trust me.

I suppose you can’t see it from the inside. You’re too busy just trying to hold on.

You don’t know, but I try and watch over you still. You drink and you shout and, in the odd hours of the morning, I know you cry. And it hurts me too, Dean.

Trying to appreciate the complete and utter beauty of your own existence is a far cry for you right now.

But I wish you’d let me show you.

I wish I could.

… I can’t.

-

I can’t do this anymore, Cas.

I’m fucking tired of you avoiding me and me avoiding you.

And I’m still scared of what you’re doing to yourself.

I need to make it alright.

I don’t know how. I’ve never been able to.

I push people away. I’ve pushed you away. Fuck.

I’m sorry if I fuck this up too, but I have to try, okay?

You mean too much to me to let you go like this.

I…

Cas.

What is this?

I shouldn’t care this much.

I’m coming in your room, Cas.

I have to try.

Fuck.

-

I thought I was stronger than this, Dean.

I used to be stronger.

I used to be able to hide these feelings, these things that twist and pierce and scratch. 

I even hid the ones that make me feel like I was glowing. They came with so much weight.

Is ‘hid’ the right word?

I’d push them away. Will myself to feel otherwise.

Or maybe I just ran from it.

I’ve been running and running for these five years and I’m so tired.

It feels like it’s been eons.

And now I’ve lost it.

And somehow, by some miracle, you’re here in this fortress of blankets.

You’re holding me. Your strong arms are a haven like I’ve never had.

I know them too well. I rebuilt them. Every inch of you, your arms and your legs and your hands with the dirt-encrusted fingernails and your stunning emerald eyes that hold the universe and the stubbly curves of your face that are pressed into my hair, I sculpted. Yet I don’t know them, know you, well enough.

And now they’re all I’m holding onto, the only thing I know.

Maybe I knew that this is what I needed.

But I was too afraid to ask.

Too afraid to hurt you again.

And as your chapped, rough lips brush away my tears so softly, so gently, I know.

You don’t have to say anything. You can’t.

What would you say?

It’s alright, Dean. It’s okay.

I know.

-

I’ve never seen you sleep. I guess angels don’t – didn’t sleep, before…

But now it’s maybe six-thirty and the sun’s coming in and your forehead’s still resting on my chin. 

Your breaths are long and deep, and your exhales are brushing my tattoo and maybe I’m matching my breathing pattern with yours and maybe the whole thing is really fucking beautiful.

Fuck. What am I doing?

Maybe I’m running my fingers through your hair. It’s even more disheveled than usual right now.

Maybe I’m tracing the planes of your muscles, skimming my fingers over your shoulder blades. You act like they’re still there, you know. Your wings. You leave space for them when you move and your posture’s almost fucking regal.

And your breath hitches, you stir and you tilt your head up to see if I’m really here.

Your eyes were the first thing I really noticed about you. I’d swear they hold some infinite number of starry night skies. Nights spent stargazing with Sammy. All the nights that dragged on forever as we lived in our own separate hells. Last night. With you. Nights to come.

If you’ll let me stay.

…Why would you, though? I have no fucking idea.

Because I don’t deserve this, Cas.

I don’t deserve you.

And now you’re kissing me hello and pulling me up. You’re in my lap, your warm skin pressed against mine.

I’d swear you were smiling a bit as you started kissing your way to my ear.

I love the crinkly thing your eyes do when you smile.

Smile more often.

And then you start to sing. It’s soft, gravelly, and gentle against my ear.

Your voice, Cas.

Of course I don’t understand one fucking word of whatever Enochian hymn you’re spouting, but it reminds me of the sea and apple pie and beers with Sam and all that is good in this fucked up world.

And you’re happy.

Why, Cas?

Why now, when the world’s gone to hell?

Why me?

Your little ancient song is somehow telling me all I need to know.

…Fuck.

When did I get this sappy?

Disgusting.

But it’s not really.

Cas, I’m happy too.

-

Last night, you showed me love when I needed it.

And now, I feel you questioning yourself.

Asking yourself why.

I don’t need my powers to read you.

I know you well enough.

Love, I know you need me.

I need you too.

I don’t deserve you. But I need you.

“Dean…

I love you.”

-

Shit.

Fuck.

Fine, fuck it all to hell.

Denying this any longer is not gonna make it any better.

“I love you, Cas.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 2nd fanfic I've ever written. I'd love feedback, especially constructive criticism!


End file.
